


Luck

by TellerQ



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: M/M, Minor Knife Play, don't worry about that tho it's not jarring or anything, minor D/s, weird pov change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-08 09:10:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3203774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TellerQ/pseuds/TellerQ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyle meets Zevran. He's got a bit of sixth sense for trustworthy people, and may or may not take advantage of the fact that Zevran is such a person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Luck

**Author's Note:**

> Getting back into the swing of fic writing with some Zevran smut bc I love him. Often I feel uncertain with characterization but I think I got him right. Feedback adored!

The air was calm, the sun was high, and the guy who’d tried to kill him not five minutes ago was offering to join his merry band of darkspawn squishers.

This was nowhere near the oddest thing to happen to him, so of course he went with it.

“And why would I want you with me?” Kyle asked with raised brows.

A smirk stole across the assassin’s face before he answered. “Why? Because I am skilled at many things- fighting, stealth, picking locks. I could also warn you should the Antivan Crows attempt something more… sophisticated, now that my attempts have failed. I could also stand around and look pretty, if you’d prefer. Warm your bed? Fend off unwanted suitors, no?”

After all the flirting he’d kept himself from responding to in the name of being a steadfast leader, he could no longer help himself. “Oh, obviously. The numbers _were_ getting a bit ridiculous.”

“See?” the elf said, sounding pleased. “I knew we would find a common interest. Or two. Or three. Really, I could go all night.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Kyle replied dryly, pushing himself upright from where he’d been seated before the bound assassin. “Alright, you win. I accept your most generous offer.”

“What?” Alistair exclaimed, over Morrigan’s thoughtful hum and Sten’s noncommittal grunt. “You’re taking the assassin with us now? Does that really seem like a good idea?”

“Yep!” the brunette answered enthusiastically, clapping a hand down on the older man’s armored shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Contrary to popular belief, I do, most of the time, know what I’m doing.”

“ _Most_ of the time,” the warden muttered, but complained no more.

“Alright,” Kyle said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s be off. Zevran, on your feet. Wrap up that rope and bring it along, will you?”

“Wait-“ Alistair, who happened to be the one to tie him, whipped around to face the elf, who’d already made it to his feet and was in the process of winding the rope into neat circles.

Kyle snickered. Morrigan facepalmed. Sten let out a gusty sigh.

Zevran looked up and gave a mischievous grin.

 

“All I’m saying is that he shouldn’t sleep in a tent,” Alistair said later as they set up camp. Zevran didn’t pause in his carefully observed duties, but kept an ear on the conversation.

An exasperated sigh came from their esteemed leader. “And all _I’m_ saying is that it wouldn’t change a damn thing if he was determined enough. Obviously you don’t trust him, but trust my judgement, okay?”

That was bordering on a low blow between comrades that actually cared for each other. As expected, the blond caved. “Fine. But if I wake up dead, I’m coming for you.”

The grin was audible in Kyle’s voice. “I’m terrified, really, I am.”

“Oh, shut up,” Allistair sighed, and moved away.

“What do you think, Zevran?” the brunette asked after a moment of silence. That absent minded, all-knowing air must really throw people, the blond mused. “Am I not being cautious enough?”

“Perhaps a tad,” the assassin replied with caution of his own. He wasn’t certain exactly what the warden’s plans were, after all. “A bit trusting, no? Or is it just effortless seduction on my part?”

Kyle grinned and finally turned towards him. “It’s definitely that.” Then he sighed, and the grin softened into a small smile. “You’ll be sleeping in my tent, but don’t take it as any kind of prodding. Though, if you find yourself tempted, I doubt I’d turn you down.” A suggestive eyebrow went up for only a moment before he turned away to continue pitching said tent. The lack of _prodding_ , as Kyle put it, accompanied by the overabundance of flirting was… interesting, especially for a human in power to show to the elf under him. “Unless, of course, you want to sleep under the stars so whoever’s on watch can keep an eye on you. To each their own.”

 

Later that night, Alistair had watched him enter the tent with narrowed eyes and Kyle had rolled his own when he’d noticed.

“Honestly, you’d think I was a helpless little school boy,” the brunette complained lightly, setting his staff aside. He stripped off his long coat and light mail undershirt. Next came his light gambeson, and then he plopped down onto his cot to tug off his boots.

By this time, Zevran was watching rather unabashedly as he revealed himself layer by layer, and was quite aware that Kyle knew he had eyes on him. _“Oh, Ser Alistair, please, save me! A brave, strong Grey Warden like you-“_ The blond leaned an elbow on his crossed leg, chin in palm, and made small sound of amused agreement.

“He does seem the type,” Zevran said.

Kyle snorted, folding his legs and resting his hands in his lap. The assassin slowly dragged his gaze up the man’s bare chest, tracing a firm jaw, mussed chestnut hair, and finally meeting striking grey eyes

“Finished admiring the view?” the warden asked, corners of his eyes crinkling. Zevran smirked, declining to answer as he finally started stripping his gear as well. He kept his undershirt and shorts, though you wouldn’t have known it by the way Kyle’s eyes raked over him. Still, the brunette made no move, just as he’d said earlier.

The tension in the tent was slight, yet, and just enough for the pause to thicken between them.

Kyle heaved a sigh, then, and fell back onto his cot, crossing his ankles and laying his hands across his stomach.

“So,” he said to the canopy, only turning his head to Zevran as though it were an afterthought. “What d’you think of our motley crew?”

“A powerful group,” the elf offered. “If small. And young.”

Eli gave an agreeing hum. “True. I’m not surprised it’s easy to spot, still, but we get better as we go. And we’re always going.”

“Where are we heading now, if I may ask?” He knew the general direction, of course, but a runner had informed him just yesterday that the warden had abruptly changed courses. It had almost ruined his ambush, though that had gotten thrashed in the end anyway.

“Heard a rumor about the Circle Tower having a bit of difficulty with demons and maybe blood mages, too,” Kyle told him. “We’re gonna go check it out.”

“You do not seem… appropriately concerned,” the elf observed.

“Eh, things’ll turn out,” the brunette said easily. “I was raised there for a good half of my life, so I know the place and the people. We should be able to tackle whatever they throw at us.”

Zevran chuckled. “Are you one of the lucky few for which fortune smiles upon continuously?”

“Pretty much,” Kyle agreed, and then grinned, moving a hand to catch Zevran’s attention and sliding it slowly up his chest. “It’s still up in the air as to whether it’s smiling on me tonight, though.”

Having no reason to resist, having waited long enough, having been carefully following the human’s fingers with his eyes, Zevran moved. He crawled over to the brunette’s prone form, slowly, not looking away from vivid grey eyes for a second. Kyle allowed himself to be caged against the ground, the blond’s arms on either side of his head and thigh pressing between his own. The assassin trailed light fingers down Kyle’s shoulders, over his chest, sliding down his sides.

“And having assassins after your life?” the blond murmured. “Is that luck as well?”

“I _did_ just today meet an incredibly handsome elf,” Kyle answered unabashedly. “He’s given me his loyalty, and tomorrow we’re going to have a contest to see who can make Alistair blush quicke- mm…” Pressing his thigh firmly against the brunette's cock stopped the hopeful flattery, though if Zevran had been a lesser man, his ears would be red.

The way Kyle’s eyes slid closed, how his head tilted back to expose his neck, finally forced the thought that’d been on the tip of Zevran’s tongue since he learned he wouldn’t be bound for the night out into the open. “So trusting… what if I’d still had a blade on my person?”

An amused huff escaped the brunette. “Zevran, you _do_ still have a blade on you.”

“And yet…” His wandering hand slid up to press against the base of the warden’s throat.

“Well, what do you expect?” Kyle murmured. “I can’t think straight with your stunning good looks distracting me.”

His eyes were still closed, and Zevran took the opportunity to pull the blade from its sheath at his upper thigh, pressing it against skin tanned from long days in the sun. Even with the edge about to slice into his very vulnerable neck, all the mage did was blink open his eyes. “And now?” wondered the assassin.

“Sorry,” the brunette said, not sounding very contrite at all. “What was the question?”

The utter lack of concern was a bit… disconcerting. “The assassin who just today tried to kill you is holding a dagger to your throat, and this does not bother you?”

“I don’t think I’ve given you enough reason to wish a return to the Crows, have I?” Kyle asked, as if he regularly compressed complex situations into simple solutions. Zevran wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

“No,” the blond conceded. “But perhaps this was my plan all along.”

The fact that it wasn’t, and this human somehow read him better than anyone had in years, was bordering on worrying.

“Perhaps,” Kyle said, in a tone that expressed just how much he believed that. “Ignoring the man-eating mabari laying just outside the tent set to get very upset should I be hurt against my will- well. I don’t think you would’ve asked all these probing questions before slitting my throat.”

“You base your trust on things so flimsy as gut feelings?” the elf asked incredulously, finally pulling the blade back, setting it down to lay flat on the brunette’s chest.

“I suppose so,” the warden answered thoughtfully. A strong hand gripped Zevran’s thigh just above his knee, then, and Kyle smirked up at him. “But, anyway, how are we going to do this? _Oh, no, please don’t kill me! I’ll do_ anything.”

“Anything, you say,” Zevran murmured, pressing down on the flat of his blade, cool metal against warm skin. He wondered just how far the human beneath him would go, should he _command_ it. Normally Fereldens were so very skittish, but if he’d learned anything it was that this man wasn’t an average Ferelden. “Well, I have always had a weakness for pretty things…”

He leant forward, blond hair spilling over his shoulders, and stopped a hair’s breadth from connecting their lips. Kyle’s lids drooped, lips parting in invitation. Zevran pushed forward suddenly, crushing their lips together. The younger man moaned softly into his mouth, his fight to lead only a token. Pressing their chests together trapped the dagger between them and Zevran made sure to keep himself at least peripherally aware of it.

Hands slid up his body, one gripping his hip, the other fisting in his hair. Without breaking the kiss, the elf pulled Kyle’s hands away and crossed them at the wrists above his head, pressing firmly once to indicate that he wanted them to stay there. When his hands slid down, smoothing over the human’s taught abdomen and dipping into his trousers, Kyle obeyed, fists clenched but stuck to the ground.

“Trusting _and_ obedient,” he purred into the warden’s ear, smirking at the shuddering breath he got in return. “I have such _luck_.” Zevran tugged the brunette’s shorts and smalls down his legs, letting him kick them away before taking his cock in hand. Kyle’s laugh turned into a quiet moan, and he thrust up into the elf’s loose fist. Zevran pulled back, sitting up and straddling the human’s thighs, grip not faltering for a second.

Kyle licked his lips as he panted, slowly hardening in the assassin’s skilled hand. He tried to buck his hips, but Zevran’s weight on him kept him still. The attempt made the blond smirk and release his cock, dragging fingertips up Kyle’s torso. He took the dagger from its place on the human’s chest and trailed the tip back down, leaving a thin red line in its wake. When he shifted, bending his head to follow that line with his tongue, one of the brunette’s hands came down to grip his shoulder-

-and quick as a flash, Zevran was leaning over him, dagger at his throat.

Kyle sucked in a sharp breath and went deathly still. His eyes flickered from Zevran’s face to the dagger, finally settling back on honey colored eyes. And still, grey eyes were wide with surprise, _lust_ , not even a hint of fear, despite how cold the elf had forced his expression. The brunette bit his lip to keep the silence for however long Zevran demanded, the only sound between them Kyle’s quick breaths.

“And to think, I only a few moments ago complimented you on your obedience,” the assassin said softly, tsking as he scraped his blade lightly against Kyle’s neck.

Slowly, _very_ slowly, Kyle slid the arm he’d moved back up to where it was meant to be as Zevran watched. “I’m sorry,” he said just as quietly and actually managed to sound it this time. “I moved without thinking. How can I make it up to you?” The question drew a smirk from the blond, and he reached over to his pouch, conveniently close from where he’d discarded it earlier, and brought out a small vial.

Kyle grinned as he saw it and went to nod, but the blade still pressed against his skin stopped him. Instead, he whispered, “Yes.” At that, Zevran slid the dagger away, setting it to the side and moving to straddle Kyle’s middle. He paused only a moment to tug his shirt off, tossing it aside. Kyle watched him hungrily, fists clenching and releasing above his head. The blond reached up and pulled Kyle’s pillow out from under his head, reaching behind him to tap the brunette’s hip.

When those hips lifted, Zevran fit the pillow beneath them. He smirked down at the mage and traced the tattoos down his side, slowly making his way to his waistband. Kyle whined helplessly, but held himself back from giving in to the temptation to touch. Zevran slipped his hand inside his shorts and stroked his cock, head tilting back and a moan spilling from his lips at finally giving himself some attention.

Kyle moaned with him, eyes fixed on his actions despite the fabric blocking his view. The brunette’s hips bucked but there was no relief, only air around him. Finally, Zevran pulled his cock out and gave Kyle a proper show, breathing heavy as he watched the human grip one wrist in the opposite hand to still himself.

"Zevran,” he pleaded, hips thrusting fruitlessly again.

The assassin hummed in question, eyes half lidded as he watched the warden’s face, glazed eyes.

“Let me suck you,” he said, in a voice so needy no one could’ve confused it for a command.

Again, quicker than Kyle could track, Zevran shifted. He spun to face away from the brunette and moved back enough to line his cock up with the mage’s mouth. Eagerly, lips wrapped around him and took him deep. He didn’t quite forget what he was about to do, but Kyle’s mouth made it tempting to do just that.

Zevran let Kyle set the pace in order to focus. With a few gentle tugs, he got the brunette to pull his knees up. Bypassing the human’s cock entirely, he uncorked the vial in his hand and coated his fingers in slick. He prepared the mage slowly, carefully, and deliberately let his hot breath ghost across Kyle’s cock with every exhale, pulling back just enough to avoid his increasingly desperate thrusts.

Broken moans caught on Zevran’s cock, ragged breaths only allowed through his nose. When the elf finally pulled away, moving away to press himself against Kyle’s ass, he’d barely been out of the human’s mouth for a second before he groaned a just bit too loudly for the middle of a campsite.

“Please, Zevran,” Kyle choked out. _“Please.”_

“What do you want, Kyle?” the blond purred, running a hand up a tanned thigh.

“Fuck me, _touch me_ , please Zevran!” Another useless thrust into the air punctuated his pleas, and Zevran gave in. He pressed inside, past that tight ring of muscle and didn’t stop until he was fully sheathed, moaning low as he fought the need to come right then. Kyle’s chest heaved, sweat trickling down his sides and temples, eyes clenched shut.

When Zevran wrapped a still-slick hand around his cock, he arched into the touch with a loud moan, and Zevran started moving. He’d used up a good deal of his patience with his teasing before, and so set a quick pace that had Kyle writhing under him. The blond changed his angle by small increments until he found the one he’d been aiming for.

“Ah- _ah!_ Zevran!” Kyle shouted, face pinched with pleasure.

“Kyle,” the assassin groaned as he sped up. “So very _tight_.”

Speech left them, then, only wordless sounds of pleasure filling the tent, skin pressing against skin, gasping breaths. Kyle’s eyes caught Zevran’s and held. Finally giving up his restraint, the mage reached out and tugged Zevran in for a kiss, hot and wet, hands sliding down the blond’s sides and back up to grip his shoulders. They didn’t break away from each other’s lips until Kyle tore away with a sharp gasp as he came, jerking and twitching in Zevran’s sure grip.

The way he seized, clamping down around him had Zevran coming almost immediately after, moaning breathlessly and pressing open mouthed kisses to Kyle’s shoulder. Onces their hearts had calmed, Zevran pulled back gently, settling down half on top of the other man. Kyle groped blindly for something to clean them off with and finally held up Zevran’s shirt in question.

Snorting lightly, the blond nodded and sighed as he was gently wiped clean. Kyle did the same for himself and then tossed the cloth away again. He cuddled up to Zevran and tugged the blanket up over them both.

“Do you see what I mean?” Kyle whispered a moment later, already drifting off.

“Hm?” Zevran questioned, tilting his head up to see the brunette smiling just slightly.

“About luck,” the mage clarified, and Zevran grinned despite himself.

“Yes,” he murmured, draping an arm across the human’s broad chest. “I think I do.”


End file.
